Confessor: Chainfire Trilogy Part 3

It was a long trek through the cheering, shouting, booing men watching the game the emperor was leaving behind. Making their way through the muddy, filthy, reeking camp, they eventually arrived at the next Ja'La field. An area had been roped off for the emperor and his party of guards. Jagang and a number of officers who had joined him talked at length about the teams who were about to play. Apparently, the game they'd left was between lesser-ranked teams. This game, though, was supposed to be between men who were for some reason expected to offer a better show.

The two point men were just arriving at center field to draw straws to determine which team would get the chance at first play. A hush fell over the crowd as they waited. The point men both drew a straw from a bunch the referee held out in his fist. The two men held up their straws. The man with the short straw cursed. The winning point man held the straw high as he cried out in triumph. His fellow players and the crowd favoring his team sent up a thunderous cheer.

The long straw give him the choice of taking the broc on the first play or giving it to the man who had pulled the short straw. Of course, no team ever gave up their chance to be first to score a point. Scoring first augured well for their prospect of victory.

From what Kahlan overheard from the soldiers and guards around her, it was believed by most that the Game of Life was won or lost by that very first draw of a straw. That straw, they believed, revealed what fate had in store.

Neither point man was the one Kahlan was looking for.

As the game started, it became obvious that these men were better than those playing in the last game. The tackles were wild efforts. Men threw themselves through the air in desperate attempts to make contact-either to take out the point man or to protect him. The point man, besides running with the broc, used its weight to help knock a man out of his way. As another man closed on him, he heaved the broc with all his might at close range. The blocker grunted with the weight of the impact of the broc and fell. The fans rooted and hooted. One of the wing men scooped up the broc and tossed it to the point man as they charged across the field.

"I'm sorry," Jillian whispered up to Kahlan while the guards, officers, and Jagang all watched the game, some of them commenting on the players.

"It wasn't your fault, Jillian. You did your best." "But you did so much. I wish I was as good as you and then-" "Shush, now. I'm a captive, too. We both are no match for these men." Jillian smiled just a little, then. "I'm at least glad to be with you." Kahlan returned the smile in kind. She glanced at her guards. They were caught up in watching the excitement of the game.

"I'll try to think of a way to get us out of this," she whispered. From time to time Jillian peeked out between the big men to try to see what was happening on the field. When Kahlan noticed Jillian rubbing her bare arms and that she was beginning to shiver in the cold, she wrapped her cloak protectively around the girl, sharing her warmth with her.

As time wore on, each team scored a point. With the game tied, time almost out, and both teams unable to gain much of an advantage, Kahlan knew that it might last quite a while in overtime play until a winner was decided.

It didn't take as long as she'd thought it would nor did it need to go into overtime. The point man of one team was tackled low from behind while at the same time another blocker, in a coordinated attack, flew in from the front, hitting him square in the chest with a lowered shoulder. The point man went limp and hit the ground hard. The tackle looked like it might very well have broken the man's back. The crowd went wild.

Kahlan turned Jillian's face away and pressed it in against her instead. "Don't watch."

Jillian, on the edge of tears, nodded. "I don't know why they like such cruel games."

"Because they are cruel people," Kahlan murmured.

Another man was designated point man as their fallen leader was carried away to a deafening roar of satisfaction on the one side, and angry yells on the other. The two sides of onlookers seemed on the verge of combat, but when play swiftly resumed they were quickly caught up in the fast-paced action.

The team who had lost the point man fought desperately, but it soon became apparent that they were fighting a losing battle. The new point man was not the equal of the man they'd lost. When the last regular play of the hourglass was finished they had lost by two points-a resounding victory for the other team. Such a point spread, as well as eliminating the opposing point man in such savage fashion, would add greatly to the winning team's reputation.